Knowing You
by Sophy
Summary: Carter finally talks about the night that could have changed his life.


  


She was watching him attentively: how he walked from room to room, reading over charts, scribbling medication dosages, comforting patients. Once or twice, he had felt her gaze which had prompted him to respond with a timid smile and a slight gesture of the hand. Every time, she reciprocated the grin, but every time, she found herself sighing interiorly; waiting, hoping. 

Finally, Jing-Mei now saw him slip into one of the exam rooms. With a shrug, her eyes slowly detaching themselves from the doors that had softly closed shut, she turned away and busied herself in reviewing her own chart. 

Okay, what's going on? 

Carter had crept up behind her, a never-ending smile lending his boyish features airs of great amusement. 

She turned around swiftly, unable to repress the smile that was also crawling onto her lips. He looked happy. Genuinely and finally happy. 

What are you talking about? she finally asked with marked innocence, though the blush building in her cheeks aptly reflected her knowledge that she would never be able to deter his questions with her below average lying skills. 

Oh please, Carter let out with a dismissive guff of laughter. 

He was staring at her, the slight creases around his mouth suggestive of his state of glee. She returned the careful eyeing, still smiling, noticing some of the subtle lines etched at the corner of his eyes. He still had retained the same youthful and boyish expression that had irked her so much in former days, she thought with an interior laugh. Time had evidently tried him, but the lines drawn on his face today she knew to be borne out of laughter rather than strain. 

I'm just glad you're back, she finally said slowly. 

Carter's eyes narrowed at her in playful suspicion before finally conceding, It's good to be back. 

A taunting smile rose on Jing-Mei's lips. Good. Because Susan and I were tired of being overworked. You get to pick up the slack now. 

And with that last, teasing grin, she went back to her chart as she saw Carter put down his own next to her. For the next few minutes, the relative calm of the ER that evening was thus only interrupted by the furious sounds of their pens. 

But you're not getting off that easy, she heard him suddenly interrupt as he dropped his pen. 

She promptly looked up, turning to eye him. she asked, once more feigning innocence. She was concentrating on his nutty brown hair—slightly disheveled by this time in the shift—watching the chocolate strands chaotically strewn on his head, some gracing his peaceful forehead. 

But she could tell that it was a lost cause as her eyes eventually came down to meet his. It was too easy, his laughing eyes seemed to say: nobody should be that transparent. 

she heard him say, almost reproachfully, you've been staring at me like I've grown an extra head ever since I came back. 

Oh wouldn't you have liked that, she quipped slyly. 

he protested, evidently not liking the insinuations suffusing her reply. 

She smiled, a teasing, lofty twinkle in her eyes. Some openings are just too inviting to pass up, she thought humorously as her gaze rested on his slightly tanned features. Her look soon changed however, as she found herself staring at him lengthily and intently. But as her eyes watched him with something like mild disappointment, all she found was a completely bemused but slightly amused impression. 

Neither hurt nor angry, all she wanted to know was why. 

The light bulb hadn't yet flashed, but she smiled with modest satisfaction when Carter understandingly looked down at his chart and then up again. 

You off? he asked hopefully. 

Willing the pen that she still held onto the paper, she scratched in one last line. 

she replied content, a glowing smile adorning her visage. 

At once, they both headed to the lounge as if a silent agreement had passed between them. He was still confused, and she could tell by his smiling ways. Still, he had evidently sensed that the answers wouldn't come right away. 

Carter pushed the door, holding it for her with a chivalrous reverence. She went in, chuckling larkingly before making her way to her familiar locker. Mechanically spinning the dial on their locks, they almost took off their coats in unison. As she was hanging the white garment, she could feel Carter's sideways glance, glance that followed her hands as she smoothed her ebony hair into a perfect ponytail. 

Mindlessly shutting the door, he had pinched part of his finger. 

Jing-Mei had instantly turned to him, repressing guffaws of laughter but eyes betraying her mockery. Always coordinated, she jibed. 

He colored slightly while vigorously shaking his hand to numb the pain, but grinned nonetheless.Enough from you, he retorted reproachfully. And when she had shut her own locker— painlessly in her case— he laughingly mumbled, Let's get out of here. 

This time, Jing-Mei was the first to swing the door open, trying hard to refrain from letting it whip him before he could make his way out. 

Enough pain for today, she mused, amusedly. 

The thought alone, however, along with the inescapable mental images, were enough to make her eyes snicker. From the tentative and suspicious steps that Carter was taking, she knew he had divined her intentions. Which only made her break out in a free smile. 

Just go ahead, she said with mock concession and a joshing sigh. You're safe for today. 

Wisely, he quickly stepped out, but not without giving her a defiant stare, suspicious, no doubt, of the implications of Laughing, she followed him out the eerily calm waiting room and into the ambulance bay. 

The doors slid open in a noiseless grace, swallowing them into the late evening air. The sun had already sunk into the horizon, cradled in its ruby glow and purpled dress, leaving the world in a dusky veil. 

With a slight inclination of the head to their left and his responding nod, they made their way onto the sidewalk and towards the el. 

Walking side by side, a cool breeze tickling their faces, she silently watched the segmental demarcations on the sidewalk as she passed each of them by. 

Had a rough day? he suddenly asked, though softly. 

He shrugged. You just seemed a little off. 

Barely seeing her all day— and the times he had, she had smiled at him— and he had seen right through her. It was almost enough to get annoyed, she thought, though unable to stop the smile from growing on her lips. 

She winced lightly now, closing her eyes to take a breath. 

We lost a seven year old, hit by a drunk driver, she started slowly. He came in with a GCS of 2-2-3 but all throughout I was still sure he was going to make it. She paused, stealing a glance towards him as he nodded encouragingly. I know you're not supposed to ever lose hope, but there are times when you know you lost them long before they ever came to you. But sometimes, even when the odds seem to be firmly set against you, you know they'll make it. You feel it… 

Carter had since turned to watch her as she spoke, supporting and urging her on with his eyes.I know, he concurred thoughtfully. Like a doctor's sixth sense. 

He saw her smile sadly, her eyes now lost in an undefined space ahead of them. And I'm usually right— just not today. She let out a sorrowed sigh. 

I'm sorry, he murmured. 

It's not your fault, she replied with a slight shrug. There was a short moment of silence, timed with the soft pitter patter of their steps on the ground, before she pensively asked, Remember what they kept telling us our first year? 

Carter made a humorous grimace, mocking his unkeeness to remember those times. As intended, it made her laugh. Finally, however, he nodded. 

They kept telling us, Deb continued languorously, in their sort of condescending, but supposedly encouraging tones, 'It's okay, you'll get used to it.' 

He smiled, thinking back to the grueling days under Benton's pragmatic watch. And I'm still trying, he mused with an interior laugh, to be a good doctor. 

That's where I think they were wrong, he heard her continue. You don't ever get used to it; it doesn't get easier. And it's just as well, she concluded thoughtfully, because the day when I'll be used to someone dying before my eyes— 

I couldn't be a doctor anymore. He had rejoined her thought, mindlessly completing her sentence, only because it had found its echo in his very self. 

Meanwhile, she had turned to him, only mildly surprised by his intervention, but a definite gladness glistening in her dusky eyes. 

She soon turned away, seemingly narrowing her eyes at an abstract object ahead. 

she finally let out with a mix of exasperation and amusement. I was fine all day until you brought this up. With a slight guffaw, she brought her hand to the side of her left eye, streaking away at the dampness. 

he mumbled apologetically, although unable to refrain from eyeing her sideways with a teasing smile. 

Carter saw her sensing his gaze, which prompted her to turn to him. Armed with a taunting smile of her own, she couldn't help but reprimand him. 

I'll tell you what's annoying though, she started reproachfully, having your mind so aptly read. 

He laughed, running his hand behind his neck in amusement as he watched the street stretching out before them: the alternating blotches of black and golden yellow, owing to the sporadic glare of streetlights. He inhaled deeply, a comfortable silence shrouding them, quiet interrupted only by the regular soft patter of their footsteps against the glistening pavement. 

But Carter could feel her stealing a glance at him every now and then. He didn't need to see her eyes to know the expression they would harbor: compelling, encouraging, but ultimately perplexing. It would be the same burning gaze he had found himself under for weeks. 

And if he had the talent to read her, this was where his abilities so confusedly halted. 

he said resolutely, what's going on? 

He had stopped short in his tracks, so suddenly in fact that she had gone on. He thus found himself a step behind and she was now in front of him, staring intently. A sly, amused expression tickled her features— but he was unsure if that was reality or a projection of his own confusion. 

Expecting a logical explanation, all he found instead was her searching eyes and that infectious smile. 

Seriously, what's going on? he reiterated, trying hard to sound serious and annoyed, but the glowing boyish grin easily betraying him. I'm usually good with subtlety, but I'm at a loss here, he explained, clearing his throat in an attempt to prevent the laughter from rising. 

Deb's smile only grew larger. 

Because I looked, he continued, for the toilet paper under my shoe— and there wasn't any. 

And her smile broke out into a bubbly laugh. Not this time. 

No, not this time. 

How about the 'Kick me' sign? 

He feigned a horrified expression before reaching for his back, frenetically feeling for an imaginary poster. 

_And_ the 'Kick me' sign. 

They eyed each other for a moment; sly amusement in the subtle crease at the side of her mouth, happy amusement in his chocolate eyes. The guffaws of jesting laughter were not long to follow. 

Coughing by virtue of a choked laugh, Carter finally eyed her with confused implorement, while walking up to her so as they could resume their way. Deb, really— what's going on? 

She sighed, shrugging a little before closing her eyes. Well at least I tried, he heard her murmur, seemingly to herself. She then turned to him, eyeing him carefully. I know we haven't talked as much lately, she started softly. 

Regrettably, Carter found himself nodding in acknowledgment of the reality. 

She took another glance at him from the side before resuming, You and Abby… 

You and Pratt… 

But it's different. I'm not the one who was going to get married. 

Carter's breath stopped for a moment, his brow furrowing into a surprised frown. He blinked once or twice, thinking hard. Somehow, she seemed to be referring to a time light years ago. 

And the surfacing of the subject was nothing short of surprising. It's not that he didn't think she knew. After so many years he knew better than to misjudge the efficiciency of the ER rumor mill. But something in her voice had made him flush furiously, the warmth seeping into his cheeks and diffusing to his temples. 

Were you ever going to tell me? 

Despite his insecurities, he heard no resentment or residual bitterness in her interruption. Her voice had been neutral, soft and with no rancorous undertones: an innocent query. 

Carter continued walking, eyes carefully averting her sideway glances, fixing rather the alternating shades of dark and light on the street. 

It didn't happen, he said quietly. 

I know, but it could have. 

But it didn't, he corrected with marked emphasis. 

He hadn't indented to sound defensive, but he was aware that he must have. In the circularity of the argument, however, he saw that that was never the point. Carter sensed his pulse inexplicably accelerating as he felt her gaze upon him once more. 

What stopped you from telling me about it before? When you were thinking about proposing? Or even after, when you didn't? 

Mouth opening, keen on a quick retort, Carter suddenly stopped short. 

He hadn't told anybody about it— save for Gamma when he asked for the ring. And oddly, he had never felt the particular need to tell anybody. 

It didn't come up, he finally mumbled. I didn't tell anyone, he continued, feeling compelled to let her know he hadn't specifically left her in the dark. 

You told Susan. 

Carter stopped himself, biting his lip. He had forgotten he had told his fellow attending after seeing the ring box on the top shelf of his locker. 

He was looking at Deb now— almost tripping on a rut in the sidewalk in the process— as her calm eyes rested on him. The placid, unracourous expression still highlighted her delicate features. 

He honestly didn't know what to tell her. Never was his intention to hide it from her— in fact, he was growing uncertain as to why he hadn't told anybody. Except for Susan that day, he now corrected himself. 

She was just _there_, he finally said. And it was the truth: purely circumstantial. 

_I_ was there, he heard her reply matter of factly. 

Wincing, he remembered how she had indeed come into the lounge, asking if she could bring them anything from Doc Magoo's. Without glancing back, a flush building in his face, he had quickly given her a dismissive before she slipped out. 

Presently, while deep in thought, he could see her grimace slightly, probably cursing herself interiorly for not having gone to the table where she would have seen Susan holding and gushing at the stone. 

Carter gave her an uncomfortable look, cornered by the incriminating evidence. 

he started softly, seriously, I don't know. 

True as it was, he was skeptical as to whether she believed him. One look at her, however, was enough to efface his insecurities. And yet, he was also aware that the answers didn't satisfy her— nor did they satisfy his own self. 

It was amazing, really, he thought, with what skill he had managed to bury the issue both with Abby and with himself. So well had he done it in fact that he found himself ruminating over the subject for the first time ever since that chocolate soufflé.   
  
_So you think this is a keeper?  
The restaurant?  
Us. You and me.  
Are you okay?  
I've spent a long time looking for a relationship I thought would stick. Sometimes it was the wrong person. Sometimes, I guess I wasn't ready or in the right place. But I think I am now. I really think I am now. Are you?  
  
Because I really want this to stick.  
Me too.  
I know we've had a rough time and there's still a lot of stuff we have to get through. But I think we're doing okay: we're growing. We're changing. Do you?  
I don't know if people ever really change. But I know what you mean.  
You do?  
I think I do.  
Well...let's see what's for dessert.  
That's it? You bought out this whole place just for that?  
Yeah. And a chocolate soufflé._

The gauche ping-ponging of the conversation, Abby's facial expression, the breath-stopping feeling when he had reached for the velvet box sunken in his left pocket, the motion of bringing it up only to let it slip back again: the ease and clarity with which all those details surfaced was disconcerting. 

I told Susan, Carter repeated thoughtfully, because she was there— Aware of the dangers attached to his unfiltered musing out loud, he nonetheless continued. She's supportive, he finally stated, blandly. 

And I'm not? 

It's different. 

And perhaps that's what it had always been about. Susan had been happy, emphasizing the fun and energy of the intended romantic overture. I love you too, Carter. But it's over. She was humor, she was wit and in some ways, he considered her the matchmaker. After all, she had pushed him to make the firs step. And Deb —she was humor, she was wit. But she was also questions. Along with the warm encouragements would have come the knotty questions whose answers he knew were fragile and glassy. 

Their steps had surprisingly retained their normal rhythm, unaffected by the saccadic pace of the conversation. A car, lights blaring ahead, illuminated them in a transient spotlight before swiftly flying by. 

—all I wanted to know. I just wanted to know if you were ever going to tell me. 

Immersed in his thoughts, Carter's distracted ear had only rejoined her in mid-sentence. His eyes were fixing blankly ahead when the words slipped out of him unthinkingly. 

he said, musing aloud, I didn't tell you because I knew what you'd say. 

And what would that have been? 

That I didn't think it through, that this wasn't the time…that I was desperate to hold on to something I felt was slipping away. He paused, drawing a breath after his uninterrupted enumeration. You know, that I was crazy. 

She laughed softly before giving him a sly look. It doesn't look like you needed _me_ to tell you that. 

Well, I'm glad you find this all amusing, he said with exaggerated disdain, incapable of concealing the slow-spreading smile that had come to him infectiously. 

By this time, they had arrived at the bottom of the staircase leading to the el platform and they went on to slowly climb the steps. 

he heard her say between the clanking of their feet against the stairs, I would have said all those things. But maybe— She paused, before continued thoughtfully, maybe that was you talking. Carter found himself frowning as she concluded with more certainty, It wouldn't matter what I'd say, John. You already knew it yourself. 

So that's what ten years will do to you, he said with a faint smile. _There's a little bit of something you in everything in me._

I'm contagious, she quipped back smilingly, catching the reference. 

Like an unwanted disease. 

He sighed, striving hard to resort to humor in order to alleviate the all too serious truth. It really was ridiculous, he thought as he looked at her, with how much clarity he could see things now, once somebody had prompted him with the right questions. 

It was thus to a playful shove—that almost made Carter fall over—and the echoes of good-humored laughter that they both climbed the last step and reached the main platform. Crossing the gates with their token, they stopped just beyond the turnstiles before she turned to him with a glowing look. The platform was effectively illuminated by glaring lights, chasing away the dark dusk and casting its luminance on both their countenances. 

For the record, she said softly, I wouldn't have said anything. 

If you would have told me about the engagement, she explained, locking eyes with his. 

Under the lights, he could see the slight flush of her cheeks due to the brisk walk and unusual coolness of the evening. 

I mean, this is you getting engaged. _You._

She had said it with such emphasis that it made him grimace. 

Gee, thanks, he replied with playful sarcasm. You make it sound like you never thought it would happen. 

She laughed. That's not what I meant. 

Carter nodded, returning the laugh. He knew. he murmured quietly. 

It was her turn to nod silently. I'm sorry… she finally replied, that it didn't work out. 

Only fools don't change their minds, he philosophized, trying hard not to relive the breath-stopping feeling of that night when he had slipped the box back into his blazer pocket. 

Maybe someday… she whispered, the notes of encouragement lingering in his ear. 

And one day, the time would come, he thought to himself, her optimism diffusing to him. One day, the time would be right again. 

He cleared his throat, eager to have one last question answered. 

Why did you bring this up now? he asked wonderingly. 

Deb sighed, mischief gleaming in her eyes. I gave you time. 

Time for you to tell me. It was odd— she continued, her voice growing faint, hearing it second hand. 

He colored slightly, uneasily running his hand behind his neck. 

She nodded. I just don't want you to ever think you can't talk to me— 

Swiftly, unthinkingly, he had interrupted her. And it seemed to dismiss any ghost of a doubt that she could have still harbored for she gave him a careful smile. 

They fell silent before hearing the grumble of an automobile speeding past down the avenue. 

I always thought you would tell me eventually, she soon continued. On your own. She was eyeing him with teasing reproach. 

And staring at me would have pushed me to do it? he asked, suddenly connecting the nature of the inquiry with all those watchful looks she had cast upon him. 

Her grin grew broader. It worked, didn't it? 

He was about to protest when he remembered what had brought him here: stepping into one of the exam rooms to dispo his patient, he had caught her at the admit desk, eyes watchfully fixed on him…which had prompted him to ask her why— 

Scary, isn't it? she interrupted, evidently seeing the gears turning and the links being made. 

What is? 

How much I know you. 

Carter smiled, coloring; he dropped his head slightly before murmuring, 

Meanwhile, she had turned to her watch but he had already anticipated her upward glance with an acquiescing nod. 

She thus gave him one last smirk and a light gesture of the hand before turning and walking away. 

Carter stood watching: he could see her smooth jet black hair bouncing in its impeccable ponytail as she climbed another staircase. The smile plastered on his face refused to go away. 

It wasn't until she disappeared completely from his line of sight that he turned around, walking to catch the train in the opposite direction. 


End file.
